


Scavengers Drabbles

by DiscourteousCuttlefish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Chapter 2 - Krok is dad, Gen, chapter 1 - crankcase makes a friend - its not his choice, chapter 3 - misfire dont wanna wait no more, i will update tags as more characters are added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7011976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscourteousCuttlefish/pseuds/DiscourteousCuttlefish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just really like to write them I guess.  So I'm going to try and write a few short fic about them, whenever something comes into my head.</p><p>Chapter 1 - Crankcase makes a friend and has no choice in the matter.<br/>Chapter 2 - Krok is team dad.<br/>Chapter 3 - Stop making Misfire wait, damn Fulcrum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crankcase Has Friendship Forced Upon Him

Crankcase is not a bot one would describe as friendly, inviting, or comfortable to sit in silence near. Actually sitting in silence near him might be impossible because of an almost constant grumbling, the sort of constant that implies the existence of Crankcase by necessity incurs the existence of grumbling. Which isn’t to say that the grumbling is a major reason that bots would not be near him; it was so constant that once one is used to it, it becomes like white noise in the same manner that someone might be lulled into a calm state by the constant hum of an engine. But to someone not used to it, it is easy to be put off or frightened by it. Fulcrum had been on edge about spending time with him at first; he was afraid that perhaps Crankcase was grumbling out of distaste for him, and considering he felt responsible for their beating at the hands of the DJD, he wasn’t really interested in testing his luck with anyone. Of course, he came to realize that Crankcase always grumbles because that’s just how it ought to be. It was the sour attitude that really put people off; his crew still enjoyed his company and they were no more put off by his dourness than by the negative attitudes of any other decepticon, but they were not always actively after his companionship. Fulcrum enjoyed his company because he knew about engineering and technical matters. Krok had a general fatherly protectiveness for all his crew and had spent enough time leading other decepticons that he was used to all kinds of dour attitudes. Spinister found was largely oblivious towards Crankcase’s unpleasantness, however, Crankcase was slightly weary of Spin’s presence because he had once, in his whole time on board, stopped grumbling and Spinister had such a fit over the absence of the sound that he had almost taken the ship down from the inside while shooting his gun. Misfire was entirely oblivious to anyone’s attitudes, and really just wanted people to talk at.

What had surprised everyone was the fact that Grimlock seemed to enjoy Crankcase’s company; something Crankcase couldn’t stand, let alone make heads or tails of. The first time Grimlock had taken an interest in Crankcase, the whole crew had been together in the cargo bay. Crankcase had, predictably, been grumbling when Grimlock had started grumbling too. Crankcase had whipped around to stare at Grimlock who was staring intently right back and, as far as Crankcase was concerned, was way too close for comfort. As the two stood uncomfortably close, Grimlock towering over Crankcase, the crew stood by watching the odd interaction. Crankcase had grumbled out something along the lines of ‘What do you want?’ because even having a hulking, decepticon-slaughtering dinobot towering over him wasn’t enough to shake his disgruntled attitude. And Grimlock had grumbled back to him in the exact same intonation; without the words, but the tone and effect was still intact.

Misfire entirely lost it, howling with laughter. Fulcrum and Krok snickered and even Spinister was laughing. Crankcase had been beyond pissed. Luckily for him, Misfire had gotten sidetracked too quickly to really hassle Crankcase. He was busy trying, and failing, to get Grimlock to mimic him. Crankcase took the time to sulk off to the bridge. Unfortunately, that only bought him a few hours of freedom before he heard heavy steps shuffling toward the bridge and the characteristic sounds of Grimlock trying and failing to be sneaky. Crankcase made a point of not turning to greet the dinobot because maybe if he ignored and grumbled at his problems enough, they would go away.

Or not. 

Grimlock didn’t seem to mind that Crankcase didn’t directly interact with him. He would stick around Crankcase until the decepticon got fed up with trying to work around a giant dinobot and chased him out. But sure enough a few hours, a day at most, later, Grimlock would track down Crankcase, probably honing in on the endless stream of grumbles. 

Misfire was amused for as long as his attention span allowed, so for all of about a week. Spinister really didn’t give a damn, but was vaguely confused as to why Misfire was amused. Krok really didn’t give a damn and thought the whole business was blown out of proportion, and at most expressed concern that Grimlock might damage something important on the ship that they probably didn’t have the material to fix. Fulcrum was interested, because for an official and self-proclaimed coward, he was exceedingly curious about things. He suggested that perhaps Grimlock was comforted by Crankcase’s consistent grumbling, but Misfire’s only takeaway was that he should start doing a crude Crankcase impression to attract Grimock. Grimlock was not impressed by the display, but did, however, take it as a cue to go find Crankcase.

“Bah! You again? Don’t you want to bother other people? Like Fulcrum. He’s a pushover, follow him around.” Crankcase’s words had no real force behind them; he had long since accepted that it wouldn’t work.

Truth be told (and if Crankcase had anything to say about it, it would not be told), Crankcase had grown accustomed to the big bot being around him. Dare say he might even enjoy his presence. He gave Crankcase something new to grumble about, though there was never a shortage of that. He didn’t talk, which made him preferable company over Misfire. He didn’t ask any questions, which beat Fulcrum. He never shot the TV: sorry Spinister that puts you on the shit list. And he didn’t judge; Krok was kind of like a judgmental step-dad. 

And in any case, at this particular moment Crankcase was just watching the television and drinking Misfire’s Engex because damn it, that drink thief deserves to have his drinks taken sometimes. Crankcase had been grumbling about program that was on (actors had no chemistry, lighting was bad, plot was predictable) when Grimlock trudged in in dino form. After Crankcase’s initial attempt to wave him off (a formality at this point), they lapsed into their usual grumble-filled silence. 

About two and a half episodes in, Crankcase looked over at Grimlock, who was sitting in a less that comfortable position against the wall. Crankcase really hated to seem nice, but the sight was just a little sad. He knew he would regret this for an eternity if anyone saw, but he would probably be here alone for a while, since everyone was busy doing maintenance or planning or recharging.

Letting out perhaps the most exasperated sigh in the history of the universe, Crankcase looked at Grimlock, who stared right back, grumbled some instruction to get over here, and patted the space next to him.

Grimlock perked up and practically jumped to the seat next to Crankcase. Transforming back into his root mode, he dropped himself down next to Crankcase and immediately mimicked Crankcase’s posture. And that’s how they remained for the rest of Crankase’s off-time. They sat together and Crankcase grumbled about whatever was on and Grimlock grumbled in mimicry. When it was time to get back on shift, Crankcase got up and left, looking back to the dinobot.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around. Since you seem so keen to just follow me around.”   
Grimlock looked a little down that he was leaving. And as much as Crankcase would declare that he didn’t care, he did. Sighing, he turned back once more.

“And, I suppose, if you want, next time I’m on break you can join me here again…”

That seemed to cheer the dinobot up. Crankcase continued out the door to prepare for his shift, knowing he would certainly be joined by Grimlock shortly after. Crankcase supposed it was nice that he had someone he could not only grumble about, but with. And if he were ever willing to say that word (unlikely), he might consider Grimlock a friend.


	2. Team Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krok's not sure how he feels about being team dad. Not that he has a choice.

Krok wasn't really interested in being team dad, he just always kind of ended up that way. And he wasn't a particularly good dad, more like a half heartedly supportive soccer dad. There for the game but not really about everyday problems. Or maybe like that uncle that you like but don't find particularly helpful and he can never quite remember which niece or nephew is which. The sort who will help you back up after you fall but not until after laughing at you and taking pictures.

In any case, team dad or team uncle weren't positions he wanted. 

And yet.

So far this week he had carried Fulcrum to his berth after misfire had gotten him way too much much high grade for a bot with his frame, dragged Misfire back to his berth later that night when he was too over charged, mediated a petty fight between Crankcase and Spinister over noise, and patted Grimlock until he went into recharge when he kept whining from Primus knows what sort of mental anguish. Earlier that month he'd had to cover bar tabs, pay bail, apologize to locals, and overall spend much more time and effort than he wanted to babysitting his crew.  
Krok was a military leader, and a damn good one if he might say. He was used to being in charge of troops and maintaining order. Sure there were some trouble soldiers, but they usually had enough respect or at least desire to survive to follow their commanding officers. But his current crew... They made even his problem soldiers look like hardened professionals. This crew was an absolute soup sandwich. They were as much a disaster together as individually. 

Their surgeon shot up their own shit. Their pilot had a tendency to leave the bridge whenever he wanted, not to mention the back talk. Misfire was unreasonable, unreliable, and childish, he was always getting in trouble, forgetting to finish tasks, and drinking Krok's engex. Fulcrum... Well Fulcrum wasn't that bad actually, aside from poorly timed curiosity and bravery, but Krok was sure he could think of something. Grimlock was an autobot. That's all he need say because what sort of decepticon officer wants to lead a decepticon slaughtering autobot?  
And yet, even at his most exasperated, Krok couldn't bring himself to wish for a military unit back. Sure they were all soldiers, but they hardly acted like it. They were genuinely loyal to each other, more so than any other unit he'd been in charge of. He never thought he'd exchange military strategy for jenga, but he also thought he'd never see someone convicted of cowardice confront the DJD to protect him. Or see a group of decepticons lend aid to a notorious autobot. They had to be the strangest, most surprising group he had ever met. 

Despite their lack of discipline and all around sense, he realized that they really believed in the ideals that the decepticons started for. It was refreshing. They weren't innocent by any means, but in that way they were shockingly pure. He had vaguely listened to Fulcrum when he mentioned his belief in the cause. A cause that Krok had not seen in a pure and un-warped form since the war began. 

Nope, they weren't like a military unit. They were a hot mess. Like a family. He had unintentionally and begrudgingly accepted the position of father. And as much as he hated it, and as much as he denied in, Krok would not trade his father position for his officer one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is v short I know.. But I said what I wanted. Not sure who to write about next, lemme know if you have requests/suggestions.


	3. Misfire Is As Patient As He Can Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's doing his best okay, but Fulcrum's a little slow.
> 
> I reference my own story like an asshole. (This one =>http://archiveofourown.org/works/6088021/chapters/13954618)

Misfire was a patient mech… for all of about 5 seconds. Any longer than that and he was about ready to burst. So when he figured out that Fulcrum like him (which was about 4 days before Fulcrum figured out Fulcrum liked Misfire), he had eagerly awaited Fulcrum’s reveal. But it seemed to be taking longer than anticipated. Misfire figured matters like this were pretty simply, you like someone, you tell them, you profit. He would have like to just jump in and preempt Fulcrum, but previous relationships had taught him that people don’t appreciate that. So he figured this time around he’d let the mech come around in his own time. Especially since if he made it awkward he couldn’t just escape Fulcrum… Well, he supposed he could ‘accidentally’ eject Fulcrum or himself out the airlock, or ‘accidentally’ leave one party on some planet or ship they scavenged, or… Nope, better to just let Fulcrum take his time.

His time just happened to be infinity to Misfire. He’d given Fulcrum ample opportunity, he even went out of his way to make sure they were assigned the most possible duties and watches together. But nothing. It was just cruel. Maybe he wanted to torture Misfire. Did Fulcrum have a sadism kink? Probably not, but the thought of it gave Misfire the will to survive, and most of that day was spent laughing at an increasingly annoyed Fulcrum who didn’t know what was so funny. 

Misfire decided his next course of action was to make sure that everyone else knew and see what they thought. Crankcase brushed him off with a brusk “No shit” and suggested that Misfire kindly frag off and let him work. Not very helpful really. He wasn’t exactly planning on asking Spinister’s advice, but he just happened to be in Krok’s office when Misfire busted in to deal with his vitally important personal problems, so two birds one stone. 

After what was probably a forcibly muted, exasperated scream came out of Krok in a loud hum, Krok steepled his fingers over his faceplate and contemplated how exactly he came to be in this position and why Primus was punishing him. He collected himself and looked to Misfire.

“I swear to Primus, I don’t know why I’m humoring this, but is that why you keep making me place you and Fulcrum together? Why can’t you just tell him?”

“Ha! Um, obvious question. I have learned, in my vast romantic experience, that mechs get really up in arms when you inform them of their feelings, even when they’re super obvious. Plus I’d hate to make it awkward for all of you.”

“…It’s already awkward for all of us… Listen, we all know at this point, and I think we all knew before he did, but this tension is getting ridiculous. You know he’s skittish, he may never make a move on his own, so I’d rather you put an end to this. And again I can’t believe this is an actual issue I am spending my actual time on. I was a brilliant strategist you know. I’ve held important positions in the deception army, I’ve-“

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to stop you there. Anyway, like I was saying, what do I do?”

“I swear it’s like dealing with sparklings.”

At this point Spinister was losing interest in his hands and piped in.

“Oh, sparkling? I’m surprised it took this long with you two. Who’s sparked?”

“Um….. Spin… we haven’t even done anything…”

“Haha, ridiculous,” Spinister looked at Misfire wide-eyed. “Wait, seriously? You two… haven’t been doing anything?”

At this point, Misfire came to the conclusion that they weren’t going to be very helpful and slunk off. 

That’s fine, he’d just tell Grimlock. Grimlock was quickly becoming Misfire’s favorite mech on the WAP. Grim didn’t care how long or how loud Misfire spoke at him. And he never replied or put Misfire down. He was perfect. If Misfire yammered on too long he might place a claw over his mouth or pull him close and with his tail into a cuddle so he could sleep, but for the most part he just listened, and seemed to enjoy it. Most of the crew assumed Grimlock didn’t understand anything, but Misfire had a sneaking suspicion he knew more than they thought. Sometimes he would lead Misfire to Fulcrum or vice versa just because. Or if he was holding on to Misfire and Fulcrum walked by he would grab Fulcrum and pull him in as well. Misfire had to give him respect, he was a pretty good wingman for a mech who couldn’t talk.

And yet, Fulcrum said nothing. Misfire was beginning to lose hope that Fulcrum would ever come clean.

And then the events in the power station had taken place.*

“I need you”

Misfire was pretty sure he felt is spark sputter. He was more excited than anything before he finally remembered to be worried. 

When Fulcrum finally met them outside the base he looked like he was ready to detonate from sheer embarrassment, no explosive charge needed. Misfire was not, in fact, nearly as dense as everyone thought he was. But just because he could read the situation didn’t mean he always made the best choices with it. He decided to just not mention what had happened, and act as though nothing was wrong until Fulcrum wanted to come talk to him. In reality, this approach had just made Fulcrum more anxious, but it did force Fulcrum to come to him.

Finally hearing Fulcrum say he liked him made his spark flutter, but finally getting to kiss him made him feel like his spark could illuminate the whole solar system. Everything just felt right, like the universe had come together just to give him this event.

And thank goodness the WAP was so small everyone was listening, otherwise he would have had to go out of his way to parade Fulcrum around to each of them. This time he was entirely oblivious to Fulcrum’s embarrassment because he could fathom anything other than his own excitement. 

It took a few days for Fulcrum to be fully acclimated to the idea of officially being an “item,” but Misfire was patient in romance if nothing else. He waited as patiently as he could for Fulcrum to sit with him, or hold hands, or finally share a berth. But as he lay next to Fulcrum, the smaller mech wedged up against his back with arms around him, he thought it was well worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *As I said, I referenced my own story like an asshole (http://archiveofourown.org/works/6088021/chapters/13954618)
> 
> Also, yeah, Misfire is the little spoon. Just let him have this.


End file.
